By Moonlight
by Juxtaposie
Summary: A WAFFy little vignette involving Sabriel, Touchstone, and the moonlight


Repost due to an error that occurred in the original, because my copy of Sabriel wasn't available to me while I was writing this. That, and I don't wanna lose all those precious reviews.....I'm such a greedy person! *sniffle* For those of you who didn't read the original, this fic takes place just after the ending of Sabriel.  
  
**By Moonlight**  
  
Sabriel's hands were cold: as cold as death....Or maybe even colder. Her slender body, once alive with strength and purpose, now seemed tiny and delicate, as if the blankets around her were a wrapping meant to keep her from shattering. Skin that was pale in sunlight was of ghostly pallor by the light of the moon. She did not stir -she barely seemed to breath- and to all appearance she was dead.  
  
Every so often, when the darkness of night closed in and everything was quiet in its slumber, Touchstone would reach out and run a gentle, calloused hand over Sabriel's pale cheeks, making sure the warmth of life was still present in them. Then his fingers would rove gently over her lips, reassuring him self that she still drew breath. One of her slender, ice-cold hands was always clutched in his. He feared that if he left her, if he let go even for a moment, she would slip away from him again.  
  
She had slept for two days. Tomorrow would be the third.  
  
The moon was a mere sliver of white hung high in the sky, its ghostly light trickling in through the windowpane -one of the only intact windows in the school. Leaning forward in his chair by Sabriel's bed, Touchstone glanced out at the specter in the sky and sent up a tiny prayer to the Charter that Sabriel would be spared. His dinner sat untouched on the bedside table. He had been urged to eat, but he wasn't sure he could keep it down so he just let it sit. He had also been urged to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he was plagued by horrible scenes of Sabriel, run through with her own sword, and Kerrigor standing triumphant over her broken, dying body: a nightmare he had experienced first-hand, and had no desire to re-live.  
  
Sabriel's hand twitched. It was the most she had moved in almost three days. The twitch turned into a feeble grasp, testament to the weakness of her body, but she clung to Touchstone's hand as if it was her life-line. Falling out of his chair, Touchstone knelt beside the bed, pressing in as close as he could and holding his breath in both dread and hope.  
  
Sabriel's eye flew open, and she bolted upright in the bed. What had started as a scream of terror ended in a cry of pain; a sharp, strangled scream that left her crying and barely breathing as the feeling of fire lanced out from her abdomen to shoot down all her limbs and back again. Tears stained her cheeks and breathing almost wasn't worth the agony.  
  
And suddenly Touchstone was there, one strong arm wrapping around her shoulders to lower her gently back down to the pillow. Familiar hands caressed her face, wiping away tears. The warmth of his body sitting close beside her on the bed was a blessed comfort, and welcome change to the cold chill of death that had pervaded her moments before. Leaning over, Touchstone kissed her; softly, almost hesitantly, his lips barely touching hers. His breath warmed her to the bone, the stubble on his chin tickled her face, and the hands lying gently on her shoulders seemed to soak up some of the pain, until breathing came easy and her tears stopped. Sabriel wished she had the strength to kiss him back.  
  
"You need to shave," she whispered hoarsely against his mouth.  
  
Pulling back, Touchstone gave a delighted laugh, and then kissed her again; harder this time, and with a little more abandon. Heat surged through her, but somehow, it still wasn't enough  
  
"I'm cold" Sabriel murmured softly once Touchstone pulled away.  
  
"I'll call someone to bring you another blanket," Touchstone said quickly, eager to make her as comfortable as possible. "Or a mug of hot tea."  
  
Sabriel looked up at him for a long moment, watching the moonlight play across his face. "Would you..." she began, her voice drowning in a sudden rush of embarrassment. Her request really wasn't that indecent, she argued with herself. There was no reason for her to be embarrassed. She was more than sure Touchstone would comply. Taking a breath, she asked softly "Would you hold me?"  
  
He gave a slight jerk, so tiny Sabriel thought it might have been her imagination. Then, smiling softly at her, he nodded.  
  
She released the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.  
  
Helping her to sit up - and trying to jostle her as little as possible- Touchstone moved in behind Sabriel, leaning up against the headboard. She gave a tiny whimper of pain when he moved to pull her into his lap, and he froze. She mentally kicked herself, as hard as she could while still groggy from sleep and healing spells. Touchstone would never forgive himself if he thought he was causing her pain.  
  
Taking a deep breath and biting her lip, ignoring the burning pain in her abdomen, Sabriel moved back towards Touchstone, pinning him between her self and the headboard before he could change his mind about it.  
  
Now dizzy from the pain of moving, she took advantage of her new position and leaned back into Touchstone. Strong arms laid themselves gently around her hips, avoiding the large wound in her stomach even as they encompassed her, drawing her into a place of warmth and safety: a place she could find no where else but in the arms of the man she lo....Was this love?  
  
A wave of realization was drawing closer, waiting to catch Sabriel's conscience mind unaware, even as she wondered at the thing called love. Marveling at the profundity of the very idea, she turned it over and over in her mind, adding in herself and Touchstone -the feel of his arms around her, the heat radiating from his body, his breath warm at her temple as he pressed his cheek to the crown of her hair- and somehow she worked out an equation she'd known the answer to all along.  
  
She only noticed the wave as it broke over her, washing her away in a tide of uplifting warmth and euphoria, a shock so great that she couldn't help but gasp at it's magnitude.  
  
"What's wrong?" Touchstone asked immediately, his hold on her tightening ever so slightly.  
  
Her answer was a shaking, gasping breath. Laying her head back on his shoulder, Sabriel looked up at Touchstone with a tiny smile, unshed tears shining in her eyes as they caught the moon's light.  
  
"Nothing's wrong," she said, laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'm fine," she assured softly. "Everything is fine..."  
  
"What about your wounds?" Touchstone asked, raising an eyebrow at her in disbelief. "Maybe I should call the medic, so he can have a look at-"  
  
"No!" Sabriel cut him off in a harsh whisper. Her voice softened as she continued "I...I want to sleep now...And I don't want to have to move around anymore." It was the best excuse she could think of to keep Touchstone near her.  
  
The look in his eyes told her he'd seen through it in an instant, but he said nothing. All he did was smile at her, shake his head slightly, and lean down to kiss her goodnight.  
  
Touchstone was asleep almost immediately, satisfied that Sabriel was well, and no longer sleeping in Death's shadow. His gentle, yet firm grip on her did not slacken, even in the midst of his slumbers. Sabriel followed soon after, drifting into pleasant dreams on love's wings.  
  
Peeking in through the window, the moon peered down at a young woman, now fast asleep in the arms of her lover. The wind sighed around what was left of the Wyverly School for Girls; a sound of relief made by the near- conscience parts of the Charter, infinitely glad they had not deprived another young man of his heart's desire.


End file.
